KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, viagra canadasale a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis canada has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, viagra canadasale a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis canada has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesdiagnosis a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis buycialis sale has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, viagra canadasale a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis canada has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesdiagnosis a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis buycialis sale has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialismedical a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis genericsickness has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, viagra canadasale a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis canada has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesdiagnosis a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis buycialis sale has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialismedical a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis genericsickness has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

I was recently on a panel of music experts to discuss the proliferation of music blogs and their use of copyrighted materials, viagra usahospital and at one point a douchebag record label lawyer-for-hire, seek without any sense of irony, help proceeded to lecture the panel about the integrity of music and its creators…like Britney Spears. While I perfectly acknowledge Britney’s right to breathe, I have serious objections to the inclusion of Britney Spears in any sentence containing the words, “integrity”, “music”, and “creator”. The douchebag then asked the panel, “How many of you have a music blog?” Every hand but mine proudly went up. Ohhh woe is me – what kind of a music expert am I?!? I’m obviously nothing but a pretender. When asked why I had such a gaping hole in my life, I simply said,

“Hmmm…I love music and I like to write, so why the hell not?!?”

Now, of course, this was an entirely imaginary, albeit elaborate conversation in the skewed corners of my mind that, perhaps in retrospect, borders a little too closely on delusion. Nonetheless, I do love many forms of music and generally don’t find writing to be a completely debilitating activity, so indeed, why the hell not?!? What harm could it possibly do? At worst, I’ll just join the growing ranks of blogs that started with much fanfare (frequent posts and a smattering of obligatory comments from family/friends/other much more popular bloggers returning the favor mostly out of pity) only to die a slow, painful death (infrequent posts and self-submitted comments pretending to be fans). As Cracker once put it, the world needs another music blog like I need a hole in my head – or, uhm, something like that. But music matters, and I want to share the music that I love; sometimes I wish I could even force people to love it – is that so wrong???

I should mention that I am a recovering music snob; I don’t and can’t conceal it entirely, but I do promise to keep it to a minimum because in the end nobody likes snobs. I really don’t want to be a snob – really. I’m working on it. I’ll get better. So I appreciate, in advance, your understanding and patience.

Britney Spears is an affront to music.
Oops, I did it a-gain.

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, viagra canadasale a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis canada has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesdiagnosis a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis buycialis sale has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialismedical a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis genericsickness has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

I was recently on a panel of music experts to discuss the proliferation of music blogs and their use of copyrighted materials, viagra usahospital and at one point a douchebag record label lawyer-for-hire, seek without any sense of irony, help proceeded to lecture the panel about the integrity of music and its creators…like Britney Spears. While I perfectly acknowledge Britney’s right to breathe, I have serious objections to the inclusion of Britney Spears in any sentence containing the words, “integrity”, “music”, and “creator”. The douchebag then asked the panel, “How many of you have a music blog?” Every hand but mine proudly went up. Ohhh woe is me – what kind of a music expert am I?!? I’m obviously nothing but a pretender. When asked why I had such a gaping hole in my life, I simply said,

“Hmmm…I love music and I like to write, so why the hell not?!?”

Now, of course, this was an entirely imaginary, albeit elaborate conversation in the skewed corners of my mind that, perhaps in retrospect, borders a little too closely on delusion. Nonetheless, I do love many forms of music and generally don’t find writing to be a completely debilitating activity, so indeed, why the hell not?!? What harm could it possibly do? At worst, I’ll just join the growing ranks of blogs that started with much fanfare (frequent posts and a smattering of obligatory comments from family/friends/other much more popular bloggers returning the favor mostly out of pity) only to die a slow, painful death (infrequent posts and self-submitted comments pretending to be fans). As Cracker once put it, the world needs another music blog like I need a hole in my head – or, uhm, something like that. But music matters, and I want to share the music that I love; sometimes I wish I could even force people to love it – is that so wrong???

I should mention that I am a recovering music snob; I don’t and can’t conceal it entirely, but I do promise to keep it to a minimum because in the end nobody likes snobs. I really don’t want to be a snob – really. I’m working on it. I’ll get better. So I appreciate, in advance, your understanding and patience.

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, viagra canadasale a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis canada has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesdiagnosis a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis buycialis sale has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialismedical a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis genericsickness has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

I was recently on a panel of music experts to discuss the proliferation of music blogs and their use of copyrighted materials, viagra usahospital and at one point a douchebag record label lawyer-for-hire, seek without any sense of irony, help proceeded to lecture the panel about the integrity of music and its creators…like Britney Spears. While I perfectly acknowledge Britney’s right to breathe, I have serious objections to the inclusion of Britney Spears in any sentence containing the words, “integrity”, “music”, and “creator”. The douchebag then asked the panel, “How many of you have a music blog?” Every hand but mine proudly went up. Ohhh woe is me – what kind of a music expert am I?!? I’m obviously nothing but a pretender. When asked why I had such a gaping hole in my life, I simply said,

“Hmmm…I love music and I like to write, so why the hell not?!?”

Now, of course, this was an entirely imaginary, albeit elaborate conversation in the skewed corners of my mind that, perhaps in retrospect, borders a little too closely on delusion. Nonetheless, I do love many forms of music and generally don’t find writing to be a completely debilitating activity, so indeed, why the hell not?!? What harm could it possibly do? At worst, I’ll just join the growing ranks of blogs that started with much fanfare (frequent posts and a smattering of obligatory comments from family/friends/other much more popular bloggers returning the favor mostly out of pity) only to die a slow, painful death (infrequent posts and self-submitted comments pretending to be fans). As Cracker once put it, the world needs another music blog like I need a hole in my head – or, uhm, something like that. But music matters, and I want to share the music that I love; sometimes I wish I could even force people to love it – is that so wrong???

I should mention that I am a recovering music snob; I don’t and can’t conceal it entirely, but I do promise to keep it to a minimum because in the end nobody likes snobs. I really don’t want to be a snob – really. I’m working on it. I’ll get better. So I appreciate, in advance, your understanding and patience.

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, viagra canadasale a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis canada has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesdiagnosis a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis buycialis sale has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialismedical a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis genericsickness has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

I was recently on a panel of music experts to discuss the proliferation of music blogs and their use of copyrighted materials, viagra usahospital and at one point a douchebag record label lawyer-for-hire, seek without any sense of irony, help proceeded to lecture the panel about the integrity of music and its creators…like Britney Spears. While I perfectly acknowledge Britney’s right to breathe, I have serious objections to the inclusion of Britney Spears in any sentence containing the words, “integrity”, “music”, and “creator”. The douchebag then asked the panel, “How many of you have a music blog?” Every hand but mine proudly went up. Ohhh woe is me – what kind of a music expert am I?!? I’m obviously nothing but a pretender. When asked why I had such a gaping hole in my life, I simply said,

“Hmmm…I love music and I like to write, so why the hell not?!?”

Now, of course, this was an entirely imaginary, albeit elaborate conversation in the skewed corners of my mind that, perhaps in retrospect, borders a little too closely on delusion. Nonetheless, I do love many forms of music and generally don’t find writing to be a completely debilitating activity, so indeed, why the hell not?!? What harm could it possibly do? At worst, I’ll just join the growing ranks of blogs that started with much fanfare (frequent posts and a smattering of obligatory comments from family/friends/other much more popular bloggers returning the favor mostly out of pity) only to die a slow, painful death (infrequent posts and self-submitted comments pretending to be fans). As Cracker once put it, the world needs another music blog like I need a hole in my head – or, uhm, something like that. But music matters, and I want to share the music that I love; sometimes I wish I could even force people to love it – is that so wrong???

I should mention that I am a recovering music snob; I don’t and can’t conceal it entirely, but I do promise to keep it to a minimum because in the end nobody likes snobs. I really don’t want to be a snob – really. I’m working on it. I’ll get better. So I appreciate, in advance, your understanding and patience.

KCRW, cialis salegeneric a public radio station in Santa Monica, viagrastomach
has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994; not available on vinyl), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesviagra a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, discount viagracialis a public radio station in Santa Monica, has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, viagra canadasale a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis canada has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialis salesdiagnosis a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis buycialis sale has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lipsIt is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

KCRW, cialismedical a public radio station in Santa Monica, cialis genericsickness has been at the forefront of new music of all genres for decades and home to three of the best music programs on radio: Morning Becomes Eclectic, New Ground, and Sounds Eclectic. I might have never heard these programs had I not accidentally come across a used CD at a local music store during my senior year in college. The CD was Rare On Air, Volume 1 (1994), a compilation of live, mostly acoustic performances at KCRW that not only had wonderful songs, but also opened a whole new musical world that I’m still exploring to this day. Fourteen years later, it’s still one of the best compilations in my collection.

Every song is quite good, but a few are just exceptional – and it all starts with the unmistakable voice of Leonard Cohen, who recites his short, but beautiful poem:

I Heard of a man who says words so beautifully
That if he only speaks their name, women give themselves to him
If I am dumb beside your body while silence blossoms like tumors in our lips
It is because I hear a man climb the stairs and clear his throat outside our door.

The poem seamlessly transitions into the first track, “Silent All These Years”, by Tori Amos. While I’m generally not an Amos fan, the poem sets the perfect, subdued mood for the song. On the second track, John Cale dramatically re-works, “Cordoba”, a song he originally did with Brian Eno. Unlike the sonically complex original version, the live version is just Cale and his piano (played with a march-like cadence), but still somber in tone. (Speaking of somber, I love his cover of Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, which not enough people have heard since it’s automatically associated with Jeff Buckley’s cover).

Just before you start reaching for your anti-depressants, the third track starts and out comes one of the most exquisite melodies you’ll ever have the pleasure to hear – made even more pleasurable by its simple, yet life-affirming lyrics. Peter Himmelman’s “Always in Disguise” is on my desert-island mix, and it should be on yours too.

The fourth track, “My Drug Buddy”, is Evan Dando (The Lemonheads) and his acoustic guitar with harmony provided by Juliana Hatfield (Blake Babies). I don’t know what it is about Dando’s voice accompanied by a solo acoustic guitar, but man, I can listen to him all day long.

Without this compilation, it’s quite conceivable that I would never have explored the music of X, Nick Cave, Lucinda Williams and Chet Baker. If it weren’t for X, the seminal California punk band, I may not have explored punk beyond The Clash and failed to discover The New York Dolls, MC5, Television, The Ramones, and The Stooges. As for Nick Cave, I admit I didn’t get his music at first, but man, once I did I was sold. I eventually worshipped at the altar of Nick Cave (and the Bad Seeds) out of both love, and uhm, fear. If you listen to enough of his music, then you’ll know what I mean.

Lucinda Williams’ cover of a Nick Drake song (“Which Will”) set me on three paths of music discovery: Nick Drake, Williams’ earlier folk-blues catalog, and acoustic folk-blues music in general, all of which I’m sure I’ll write more about in future entries. And Chet Baker? Well, he’s not actually in the compilation, but it does include an achingly beautiful David Wilcox song called, “Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song”, which imagines the life and tragedy of Chet Baker. At that point I was still learning about Jazz and hadn’t really paid any attention to Chet Baker (who I wrote about earlier), but after hearing Wilcox’s song I had to find out more.

Chet Baker’s Unsung Swan Song, David Wilcox. This too is on my desert-island mix. (Btw, this performance is better than the original on his Home Again album.)

I was recently on a panel of music experts to discuss the proliferation of music blogs and their use of copyrighted materials, viagra usahospital and at one point a douchebag record label lawyer-for-hire, seek without any sense of irony, help proceeded to lecture the panel about the integrity of music and its creators…like Britney Spears. While I perfectly acknowledge Britney’s right to breathe, I have serious objections to the inclusion of Britney Spears in any sentence containing the words, “integrity”, “music”, and “creator”. The douchebag then asked the panel, “How many of you have a music blog?” Every hand but mine proudly went up. Ohhh woe is me – what kind of a music expert am I?!? I’m obviously nothing but a pretender. When asked why I had such a gaping hole in my life, I simply said,

“Hmmm…I love music and I like to write, so why the hell not?!?”

Now, of course, this was an entirely imaginary, albeit elaborate conversation in the skewed corners of my mind that, perhaps in retrospect, borders a little too closely on delusion. Nonetheless, I do love many forms of music and generally don’t find writing to be a completely debilitating activity, so indeed, why the hell not?!? What harm could it possibly do? At worst, I’ll just join the growing ranks of blogs that started with much fanfare (frequent posts and a smattering of obligatory comments from family/friends/other much more popular bloggers returning the favor mostly out of pity) only to die a slow, painful death (infrequent posts and self-submitted comments pretending to be fans). As Cracker once put it, the world needs another music blog like I need a hole in my head – or, uhm, something like that. But music matters, and I want to share the music that I love; sometimes I wish I could even force people to love it – is that so wrong???

I should mention that I am a recovering music snob; I don’t and can’t conceal it entirely, but I do promise to keep it to a minimum because in the end nobody likes snobs. I really don’t want to be a snob – really. I’m working on it. I’ll get better. So I appreciate, in advance, your understanding and patience.

So I haven’t blogged in a week, cialis buycialis mostly because my music room has been, cialisstore well, missing an important item (the amp), but in anticipation of returning to audio heaven tonight, I wanted to quickly share a recent discovery. Apparently, there’s a cornucopia of new Swedish pop stars extending their reach beyond the beautiful fjords of Sweden. While I suppose Lykke Li is the best known of the bunch, I love the joyful, retro (circa 1985), occasionally horn-laden, unapologetic pop sounds of Montt Mardié (David Pagmar). On his MySpace page, he lists his influences:

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About SideATrack1

I love music and I want to share the music I love. In fact, I want everyone else to love it as much I do – is that so wrong?! Since I can’t stand on top of my roof to convince every passerby to listen to my favorite songs, or go from bar to bar and stick my wax-infested iPod earphones into the ears of random patrons and whisper, “hey, trust me, you’ll love it,” I guess I’ll have to let my keyboard do the talking.
If you’re looking only for the latest and newest, then this blog is not for you; there are more than enough music blogs that do precisely that. But if you love the latest and also recognize the nearly infinite number of great artists from years past to whom you’ve yet been exposed, and you also want to be occasionally reminded of the greatness of music legends, then this blog is for you. In my head, there’s a music mind map that arranges the artists I love on multiple dimensions, and that same map projects the artists I will come to love later. Trust me, you’ll love it too…